


Close

by windscryer



Series: Maja's Platonic VLD Week 2017 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Captivity, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Offscreen Torture, Platonic Relationships, Platonic VLD Week, Post-Season/Series 02, Rescue Missions, don't touch space dad's kids, everyone is a badass, handwavy explanations for canon cliffhanger resolution, he will fuck u up, lance and pidge brotp is my JAM, offscreen medical experimentation, pidge is a badass, shiro is a badass, that's kind of their thing i know, we're here for the friendship and whump lbr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:17:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10040984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windscryer/pseuds/windscryer
Summary: It's an old proverb that battle plans never survive first contact with the enemy and rescues aren't much different in that respect. Still if things keep going the way they are, Pidge is going to have to ask Shiro to stop helping.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title and support of this story was provided by Lucy (and also by viewers like you.)
> 
> Platonic VLD Week Day 4: Enemies/Family! :D

“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be just fine, I promise.”

Shiro didn’t make any kind of response, but that was all right. He was still breathing, and that was all Pidge cared about right now. It was probably better that he slept through this part of things. He could wake up after they brought him out of the pod and he’d be fine again.

Hot tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks and she wiped them on her shoulder. Her hands were too busy to spare for such a task, one carding through his hair where his head lay on her collarbone, the other wrapped around his waist to keep him close and also remind him he wasn’t alone.

If it reminded her too, well, that was just efficient.

“We’re gonna be fine, Shiro,” she repeated. “Keith is definitely coming for you. Even the Galra can’t keep him away from here. And Lance, of course, won’t let Keith do anything better than him. And Hunk.” She sniffed and then snorted. “Hunk is the Keith to Lance’s you. Plus, you haven’t seen Black yet.”

Her next words got caught in her throat and she had to swallow several times to work past the lump.

She rested her cheek on his head. “Black hasn’t been the same since you vanished. She was offline, so she didn’t know what happened. Just... one second you were there and the next you were gone. Green says she’s been so afraid. You guys just figured out your bond and then you were gone and—” She sniffed again, and forced her voice to steady. “But we found you. And they’re coming for us and we’ll get you back to her. You just have to— to hold on. Just a little bit longer.”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, but they were too regular and heavy to be any of her friends. More patrols, trying to find the missing prisoner and the ghost in their midst.

Good luck, assholes. If there was one thing Pidge knew it was how to hide herself from a security system.

Still she freed her hand from Shiro’s hair and groped for her bayard. She didn’t activate it yet, but she pointed it at the door and waited.

The footsteps continued on past without pausing and when they finally died away completely, she lowered her bayard to the ground once more.

Her patch that hid them was good, but they knew she was here somewhere and even the best code would eventually be found and taken care of.

If nothing else, they just had to do a systematic search of the ship because while Shiro had been mobile before, he wasn’t now.

She didn’t know what was wrong, just that he’d lost what little coherency he’d had when she’d found him on that table and then halfway back to the hangar where her stolen Galra fighter was waiting behind a cloak, he’d collapsed. She’d just barely been able to drag him into this tiny closet and wedge the door shut.

They’d been here for a varga already and she wasn’t sure when their rescue was even supposed to be in comm range, let alone putting the extraction plan into play.

She was just glad they’d accounted for the fact that Shiro might not be mobile. If only someone else had been able to read Galran well enough to pilot the fighter, she thought with a sigh. Then she could have swooped in with Green under cloak to retrieve them and this whole thing would have been much easier.

Plus, then it would be Lance or Keith or Hunk hauling around Shiro’s giant, _heavy_ , unconscious ass, not her. She was no slouch in the fitness department, especially after all this time training and fighting, but he was still almost double her weight with his arm.

She’d done the hard part though. She found him and got him out of the place they were holding him and into somewhere safer. Now she just had to wait for contact and activate her beacon.

Shiro moved, minor shifting and a soft moan. His eyes fluttered, but didn’t open.

Letting go of her bayard, she moved her hand back up to Shiro’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Hey, Shiro, it’s Pidge. You’re safe now. We’re going to get you out of here.”

His nose scrunched up and he tried to turn his head more. “‘Dge?”

“Yeah,” she said, then bit her lip against the wave of relief that threatened to come out on a sob. She forced it back down and said in a more steady voice, “Yeah. It’s me.”

There was a moment where his muscles locked into place and then he was shoving up and to his feet, turning around in a wobbly circle, his arm lighting up so brightly that it hurt to look at.

“Whoa!” she said, and started to get up until he spun around and snarled at her. She put her hands up in surrender and stayed where she was. “Shiro, it’s me. It’s Pidge. Everything’s fine. Or, well, it will be. I got you out of that lab and we’re hiding in a closet and the rest of the team is coming for us right now. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Shiro stared at her for a long moment with a slightly unfocused gaze, then turned to face the door again. She was just glad to see his arm deactivate, though the metal smoked a little when he pressed his hand to it. He seemed to be testing it to see if it would open and that was bad.

“Shiro,” she said, daring to stand again. He froze for a second, then resumed his examination.

He pressed on ear to the door and said, “I don’t hear any patrols. When did the last one come through?”

“Shiro, we can’t leave. We’re waiting here for help.” Maybe they should take the chance and try to get to the fighter, it was definitely better protected and if they had begun a search it would make things harder to have moving targets, but Pidge’s gut said that sending Shiro out where he might encounter guards was not such a good idea right now.

“No!” Shiro said, slamming his metal fist against the door. She winced and hoped that there was no one nearby who would think that investigating that was important.

The look he gave her over his shoulder was intense, if still a little unfocused. She wondered if it was a lingering drug in his system that would wear off or something else. They _had_ had him for, God, _weeks_ now. It might just be the extended duration of being a prisoner again.

“They can’t have you,” he insisted. “I promised… I promised I wouldn’t…” His face screwed up like he was either going to sneeze or was in pain. She was pretty sure it wasn’t a sneeze though. “I can’t,” he said quietly, and her heart _hurt_ at the broken defeat in those two words.

“Hey,” she said, reaching out and putting a hand on his back. “They don’t have me.”

“But you— We—” He frowned, trying to work through whatever logic was in his head. “We were taken. They took— I don’t know how,” he said shaking his head like his ears were full of water. “I was in Black and then… here…” His gaze landed on her and sharpened. “And _you’re_ here. Where are the others? We have to save Keith and Hunk and— and Lance.”

“The rest of us weren’t captured,” she explained patiently. Seeing Shrio so worried and determined to save them all was both heartbreaking and heartwarming. “We don’t know how they got you either, but they only got you. We tracked you down. I came in by myself to make sure you were here and so the others could follow me in. We’re just waiting for them to show up now. I promise, Shiro, everyone’s safe. Please come sit down again?”

He stared back at her for a long moment. “No one else is here?”

“No one but me and you and a lot of Galra that are very soon going to regret their life choices.”

That got a tiny, if shaky smirk out of him. “Good,” he said viciously.

“Very good,” she agreed. “Now will you please come sit down? I don’t know what they were doing to you, but you definitely need a healing pod and I don’t really want you to pass out again if we can help it.”

He shuddered and seemed to shrink in on himself, his left hand coming up to clutch at his right arm. He looked down at the metal hand and flexed the fingers.

“Nothing good,” he muttered.

Hot, vicious fury welled up in her throat like bile, but she forced it back down and just muttered, “Really, _really_ regret their life choices.” She reached out a hand, though, in invitation. “Please come sit?”

He looked at her hand, then at her face, and she almost thought he was going to cave in before he shook his head, the motion wobbling him enough to make him grab the door for support. “No. Gotta stay here. Block the door.”

She could have told him that she’d already taken care of that by activating the deadlock, but decided it probably wouldn’t matter anyway.

“Well then we’ll sit over there,” she said with a shrug. She moved over next to him and put her back to the door, sliding down to a seat with her knees pulled up in front of her. “You coming?” she asked, tilting her head back.

After a very long moment, he gave in and also sat, but less sliding down the door and more lowering himself like a panther waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

She unashamedly lifted his arm and leaned over into his side, draping the limb over her shoulders. Lance was the one that had noticed that sometimes Shiro could be distracted from his more vague worrying and hypervigilance just a little bit if he had something to actively fuss over.

If she had been alone she would have been fine—or able to function anyway, so same difference—but she also wasn’t at all ashamed to use her “tiniest/youngest/only girl besides Allura/related to Matt and her dad” status to her advantage. Shiro had enough of a hero complex to make it almost too easy to do so.

Shiro’s head snapped around even as his arm tightened around her, almost on instinct. Or maybe not “almost”.

“We’re gonna get out of here,” he said with conviction.

“I know,” she replied all the confidence she had in their team in her voice. “That’s what we do. We save each other’s asses because we’re family and that’s what _family_ does. Ohana, right? No one gets left behind or forgotten.”

Shiro chuckled. “Right. Ohana.”

He tilted his head back and they waited in silence. She wondered what he was thinking about and if she should try to distract him more. He was still so tense, it was almost more like leaning into the corner of two of the metal walls than leaning between a door and his side.

She hadn’t figured out what—if anything—to say when her helmet buzzed in her lap. She sat up and immediately brought up her vambrace display as she answered, speaking up to be heard. She didn’t put it on though so Shiro could hear as well.

“I’m here. How close are you guys?”

“Keith thinks he can be there in fifteen dobashes, but I think I can make it in ten,” Lance said, the smirk and challenge clear in his tone.

Keith’s eye roll was just as evident in his sigh before he said, “We’re not racing. Besides, my Lion is faster than yours. That’s just a fact, Lance. There’s no point in racing them.”

“There absolutely is! Blue and I can kick your’s and Red’s asses any day! Just name the time and place!”

“How about we worry about racing our Lions later?” Hunk broke in. “Like, after we have Shiro and Pidge safely back in the Castle?”

“How is Shiro, Pidge?” Keith asked, all joking and banter aside.

“I’m fine,” Shiro said, leaning in. “Is everyone else okay?”

“Shiro!” Hunk and Lance said, while Keith’s softer, but no less fervent, “Thank God,” came through underneath.

“We’re fine, Shiro,” Lance continued. “I mean, a little banged up maybe, but nothing a quick nap in the pods couldn’t fix. Better now that we found you,” he added.

“I’m going to activate the beacon now,” Pidge said. “It will only transmit every two dobashes until you get to the strike distance, then it will transmit continuously. We had to wait elsewhere, but Shiro and I are going to make a run for the fighter so wait for my signal before you come blasting in. We might be able to get out of here before they figure out what’s happening.”

“Copy that,” Keith said. “We’ll hold at strike distance and wait for your signal.”

“Be careful,” Hunk said.

“You too,” Pidge returned, her lips curling in a smile. She cut the transmission and lifted her helmet to put it on, then checked her bayard was secured at her side.

Shiro’s whole uniform was a loss because it hadn’t been in the room with him, his clothes replaced with the same Galra prison garb he’d been wearing when he landed on Earth. But she wasn’t really worried the Galra would have access to their frequencies or encryption ciphers because she’d decided that they were going to blow this ship to kingdom come.

She didn’t think the others would object and they could always fabricate him a new uniform back at the Castle.

Thank God his bayard had been left behind in Black when he vanished, though. They didn’t need to lose that again so soon.

He was already standing again, though he still rested some of his weight on the door. He offered her a hand up and she accepted, then checked she hadn’t left anything behind.

“Okay, I’ve got a program set up to keep the guards occupied elsewhere, so give me one sec and… there!” She tapped another command and the door’s lock cycled open with a hiss and a thunk.

Shiro, of course, blocked her from going first, and she rolled her eyes, but let him. Someone had to cover their backs anyway, and it might as well be her.

They had to stop twice for random Galra soldiers and technicians, but weren’t spotted and soon found themselves in the port-side fighter bay.

“Over here,” she whispered and led him around the fringes of the room to where she’d parked the ship. Her visor’s display let her see through the cloak and when the coast was clear, she darted out of the shadows and opened the door.

“Come on!” she hissed, beckoning him. Both her visor and her ears were telling her that someone was coming her way but as long as they got inside the invisible ship, it would be fine.

Shiro had noticed it too, though, and he did not look like he wanted to hide.

She couldn’t really begrudge him that, but she really would prefer to leave without attracting any— Or not. Well, he was the leader of their little team.

She activated her bayard and went running after him.

There were only four guards—two Galra and two of the robot sentries—in the patrol he’d attacked, but this hangar wasn’t completely empty either. There were shouts from all around them and more footsteps coming fast.

She stopped far enough away she wasn’t in danger of getting caught in Shiro’s deadly dance and planted her feet. Aiming, she fired her bayard and smirked with satisfaction when the technician went down like a sack of bricks, doubling over his gut. She recalled her bayard as he heaved up the last meal he’d eaten.

“Pidge!” Shiro screamed, punching one of the sentries into the other with his blazing fist.

She took that for the warning it was and dropped to her knees, spinning onto her hip and jabbing upward at the Galra that was grabbing for the space she had been occupying.

He went down, but not without a snarl, reaching for her again and managing to get one giant clawed hand around her arm. She returned the snarl and jammed her bayard into his armpit. His grip tightened for a second as the electricity surged through him, but when she stopped, he went limp and she was able to shove him off.

A harsh exhalation that was all too familiar made her spin to see Shiro being restrained by two sentries clinging to his arms while a Galra soldier used his gut as a punching bag.

She scrambled up and toward them, but an arm around her waist lifted her off her feet and dragged her backward.

“Let me go, you furry asshole!” she yelled, elbowing and kicking the wall of muscle behind her. She twisted to try and get her bayard into play, but the hand not digging into her side grabbed her wrist and squeezed.

With a gasp and a frustrated, pained sound her wrist gave way and her bayard fell with a clatter to the deck.

She threw her head back and managed to bash the guy’s face hard enough to get him to spit something Galra and distinctly unflattering, she was sure, but he didn’t let go, unfortunately.

A purple and black blur flew past and she blinked in wide-eyed surprise when she realized that it was the Galra that had been punching Shiro. His legs were up in the air from the kick he’d managed and his face was twisted in pure fury as he glared at the Galra holding her.

“Let. Her. _Go!”_ he bellowed. His arm glowed so brightly that she had to look away, but she heard the crash of a sentry or two and when she looked back, she could see him crouched over one of them, fist buried in the robot’s sparking head.

He straightened and stalked forward and she understood now why some of the Galra spoke his former title with the tone they did. Even bruised and bloodied, he was a terrifying vision when he focused his sights on a target.

“You want this little runt?” the Galra behind her growled, and she could hear the burr of satisfaction. He thought he had the upper hand.

Ha. He’d figure it out soon enough.

But she wasn’t entirely inclined to wait for Shiro to show him either.

Twisting again, she managed to get her arm around his head and yanked, digging in the fingers of her free hand to his nose and eyes. He roared, but she persisted, using her momentum and leverage to pull him around until she could shift her weight and topple him to the ground.

She rolled away and back to her feet as Shiro dove in, landing on the wounded, enraged soldier. A firm grip and another roll and the alien went flying to crash into a stack of crates.

There were still more coming and some had weapons, one or two starting to fire from a distance rather than get close enough to tangle with the Champion and his Paladin companion.

“Pidge, we’re here,” Keith reported in her ear as she slid across the floor to her bayard and reclaimed it. She immediately braced, fired, and retracted it, though since she’d anchored it around a strut it pulled her forward and into a trio of Galra, knocking them over like bowling pins.

“And we’re not,” she said, grunting when a technician caught up to her and got a lucky blow across her face.

She reeled backwards and took a deep breath, focusing for just a second on not puking. That was probably a concussion, she thought with a grimace. Joy.

She gave back her own punch, but it packed a little more juice with her bayard crackling. He went down and the two behind him hesitated to press his attack.

She did not, chasing after them until she was able to tag them both and leave them groaning on the floor.

Surveying the scene from behind a large piece of equipment that was very nicely shielding her from the weapons fire, she spotted Shiro making pretty quick work of a group that had tried to apply the “strength in numbers” principle. It wasn’t going so well. They probably needed more numbers.

“What’s wrong?” Keith demanded in her ear. “Pidge? Do you need backup?”

“Blue and I are ready to come in,” Lance said.

“Yellow and I can start taking down the guns, do you need a distraction?” Hunk asked.

She grunted and bolted forward, then threw herself into the flying spin Keith had been practicing with her. Rolling through the air over the extended arm of the sentry trying to grab her and then landing on her feet, slashing once, twice, she disarmed and then beheaded the robot.

“If I can get Shiro to the fighter we can get out of here, I think,” she panted as she sprinted to where she’d last seen him, dodging more than one hand and leg as she went, “but, yeah, a distraction probably wouldn’t hurt. There aren’t any other prisoners on board that I could find in the ship’s records.”

“Understood,” Keith said, and she’d be chilled by the coldness in his tone as he acknowledged what she was saying, except, well, she would pretty happily pull the trigger herself right now. He gave directions to Lance and Hunk to coordinate their attack and she dove between the feet of a Galra who thought, for some reason, that she was just going to run right into his hands.

It was a pretty fatal mistake, she thought as she skidded across the deck, slicing at the back of his leg as she went past. He turned as he tried to follow her and it gave her the perfect angle to cut a deep gash across his calf and send him crashing down with a howl.

She came to a stop and pushed over and up, making the final lunge for Shiro when she saw she was so close.

“Shiro!” she called in warning, so he didn’t attack her too. He spun, a mask of vicious fury his expression. It abated when he realized it was her.

She came to a stop and he reached out with his flesh hand to grab her arm. She suppressed the wince since it was the one the Galra had crushed earlier. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Shiro, we have to go. The others are coming and we’re going to blow this ship the fuck up, so we need to get off of it before that happens.”

His brow was furrowed and she wasn’t happy to see his gaze still wasn’t quite focused, but he nodded. “Let’s go,” he said, much to her relief.

She shifted her arm so she could grip him back, ignoring the throb in the limb, and pulled him along to the empty spot waiting for them.

The door was still open and she ran up the short ramp, dragging herself around the chair and flinging herself into the seat. Her hands were already moving, starting it up and running through the checklists.

Shiro leaned heavily on the chair back, breath gusting in and out as he watched the Galra through the front windscreen. Some were staying down, but most were in some stage of getting up. A few were pointing weapons, but they hadn’t seen where their prey had gone, so no one was firing yet.

That wouldn’t last long, she knew, punching the button to spool up the engines.

Sure enough the closer Galra turned and stared at them, then started pointing and yelling for those who were armed to fire.

She kicked the shields up just after the first bolt splashed across the window with an alarming thunk.

“We’re fine,” she said. “That’s fine. We can take a few hits.” She watched the engine monitors climb toward the green zone—well, purple, but it was hardly her fault the Galra were so damned attached to their aesthetic—eyes flicking to the windscreen every few seconds.

The shields would hold, but even sustained small arms fire would eventually overwhelm them. They needed to get up in the air and out the door.

“Pidge,” Shiro said, pointing past her.

Speaking of doors…

She glanced at the gauges one more time and as soon as they crossed over into the first hint of purple she grabbed the throttle and shoved it forward.

There were several thumps and flashing indicators from the shield panel to tell her that they’d taken a few of their encroaching attackers down with their unexpected launch.

Oops. Oh well. Not like it would matter in a few minutes anyway.

Letting go of the stick for a second, she tapped at her arm, one last program she’d seeded into their network coming to life with a deafening boom that shook everything in the hangar before the air around them was filled with the debris of all the things not tied down flying into open space.

She called it the Keith Protocol.

They cleared the edges of the door easily and as soon as she had the clearance she swerved up and out of the stream of stuff that had come out with them.

None of the fighters in that bay would be useable until the repressurized the bay—if they managed to do it in time at all—but it wasn’t nearly the only one and all too soon they had company.

“Twelve o’clock!” Shiro barked and Pidge juked to the left and into a roll for a few seconds before she straightened out again.

Another bogey appeared on her targeting screen— Shit, make that a whole flight of them.

But before they could line up and start firing on her, a massive wall of white and yellow crossed over their path and through the enemy ships, jaws closing on the much tinier craft and crushing them into space junk.

“Woohoo!” she yelled, laughing with relief. “Thanks, Hunk!”

“Oh good, that is you!” he said. “I mean, I figured but—”

“Hunk! We could use your lasers right now!” Lance called.

“Well, anyway, you’re welcome. Gotta go! Allura and Coran are waiting behind the second moon!”

Yellow turned a tight arc and blasted back toward the Galra gunship, mouth ablaze with light as he fired again and again.

There were a few more fighters that tried to follow, but Pidge was able to dodge them well enough and eventually turn things around and take them out in turn.

By the time the battle was a bunch of sparkles and lines of light in the distance, they were alone. She input the new coordinates and turned them toward the waiting Castleship.

She craned her neck to see how Shiro was doing and found him leaning heavily on the back of her chair. He didn’t look so good and she wished all the fancy maneuvers hadn’t been necessary.

“Hey, you should sit down,” she said. She was tempted to get up and try and nudge him into a safer place, but she was a little busy flying still.

“I’m fine,” he croaked. “I’m fine.” He looked down at her and smiled crookedly. “Thanks to you.”

“Thanks to all of us. And we learned from the best,” she pointed out.

His laugh was rusty and cracked and he wiped a hand over his face, but he didn’t argue. She’d take it for now, though it worried her more than a little.

“Pidge? Are you there?”

Allura’s voice pulled her back to the moment and she checked her course and heading and speed and then replied, “Yeah, we’re here. I’m just about to come around the planet. How’re the boys doing?”

“They’ve disarmed the main gun and are almost finished. Keith expects it will only be another few minutes before they return.”

“Excellent. And, there you are. We’re coming in. Are the doors open?”

“Yes,” Allura said. “And welcome home.”

“Glad to be back,” Pidge replied with sincerity.

The remainder of the flight was quiet, only the sounds those of the fighter and Shiro’s breathing and minute adjustments. Finally she pointed the nose down and swung into the open bay, maneuvering down the entrance and around to the corner where they’d been keeping the little stolen ship since acquiring it in a battle a few days ago.

She shut everything down and then stood, facing Shiro again.

His eyes were closed and he wore every inch of the hell he’d been through, both most recently and before, on his face and in the sag of his shoulders and the tremble of his fingers where they pressed into the seat.

“Shiro?” she said quietly and he forced his eyes open and inhaled deeply, pushing upright once more.

“Yeah. M’here.”

She frowned and rounded the pilot’s chair, tucking herself in under his flesh arm and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Come on, let’s get you to the medbay. There’s a pod there with your name on it. Possibly literally,” she added, “given how often you like to visit.”

That startled a laugh out of him as they descended the ramp. By the bottom he was leaning more heavily on her and she was grateful to see Coran waiting with a stretcher.

“There you are, Number One!” he said brightly. “Glad to have you back. Come on now, have a seat and we’ll get you off to—”

Shiro jerked back suddenly, almost taking Pidge down with him as he fell on his ass. He started to crawl backwards, staring at the stretcher with undisguised horror writ large on his face.

“No!” he choked. “No!”

“Whoa!” Pidge said, dropping to her knees and reaching out for him. He turned wild eyes on her, breath coming short with his panic. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just a stretcher. It’s fine. We just need to get you to the medbay, remember? You’re safe now, Shiro. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

She got a hand in his and squeezed, smiling gently at him.

He stared at her, then at Coran, then back at the stretcher. She could practically see the argument in his head, and after a second said softly, “Hey, Coran, ditch the stretcher.”

Shiro’s gaze snapped back to her and she gave him all the confidence she could.

“We don’t need it, right? We can get him there just the three of us.”

“Of course!” Coran said, and slid the stretcher out of the way. He came to Shiro’s other side and got a firm grip on his arm as Pidge adjusted her hold. “On three. One, two, three!”

They hefted him up and steadied him until he was okay again.

“Sorry,” he whispered, brow furrowed with the shame.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Coran assured him. “Come on, then, one foot in front of the other. No rush, just keep moving forward as you can.”

They had almost made it by the time the other three came jogging down the hall, pulling off their helmets to reveal sweaty, disheveled hair and triumphant grins.

“Shiro!” Keith called, putting on a burst of speed to catch up to them. He not-so-casually edged Pidge out of the way and took her place, but she was okay with that. Shiro was still heavy and she was tired. She could let someone else help since they were here now.

Lance and Hunk flanked her, the former wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She appreciated it and leaned into him.

“Gunship gone?”

“Gunship gone _boom_ ,” Lance said with smug satisfaction. “And all the little fighters with it. Maybe now they’ll think twice before taking stuff that isn’t theirs.”

“Yeah,” Hunk agreed. “Definitely not a good idea when it’s Voltron you’re stealing from.” They high-fived over her head and she laughed tiredly.

“I told Shiro we’d make them regret all of their life choices,” she said as they steered her into the medbay.

“And we did,” Lance agreed. “And now it’s time for all the brave little Paladins to hop into their cryopods and get some much deserved rest and repair.”

She shook her head and tried to push off. “No, I’m fine. Shiro—”

“Shiro was there,” the man in question said. “You took too many hits,” he added, a twist of dissatisfaction to his mouth. “Please let Coran help you.”

Well that was just unfair. Like she could say no to him right now.

“Okay, fine,” she agreed with a sigh. Lance steered her toward the little bathroom while Hunk fetched one of the suits.

She was allowed privacy while she changed, but when she tried to stand up again, her legs refused to hold her. Ugh.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she called and Lance came back in immediately to help her limp back to the waiting pod. Shiro was already inside the other one, but it hadn’t been closed yet. Keith was holding his hand tightly and talking quietly to him.

“And in you go, Number Five,” Coran said as he and Lance helped her step over the lip and recline against the backrest. “Shouldn’t be very long for you,” he added, scrolling through a readout from a scanner. “Not too banged up, that’s good. We’ll see you at breakfast, I think. Get a good night’s rest.”

“Thanks, Coran,” she said, and then returned the squeeze when Lance gripped her hand.

“Night, Pigeon,” he said. “Good job today.”

“Remind me to kick your ass when I get out,” she said, though it was ruined by the jaw-cracking yawn. God, she was exhausted. And hurty. Ugh.

The other pod sealed up over Shiro’s face as Keith watched and then he turned and gave her a little salute. She waved back and smiled when Hunk said, “I was thinking of making waffles for breakfast. Well, space waffles. Does that sound good?”

“It sounds delicious,” she said. “I can’t wait.”

Lance let go and stepped back with the others as Coran finished setting the controls. The cover solidified across her vision, but she was already falling asleep, content that this part of her family was safe and sound once more.


End file.
